It Just Began
by GiggleGinny
Summary: It was innocent and sweet. They were 12 when it just began.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot!

Ch. 1It Just Began

It hadn't just happened. It was slow progression over time for them. She felt she could trace it back to 2nd year. The three of them had been terrified, and after finding out that the boys couldn't come to her, she went to them.

She remembered the first night with perfect clarity.

They were sitting on Harry's bed talking of Professor Lockhart's latest blunders.

"Honestly, Harry! I'm sure the Professor was just nervous!"

"'Mione, it was a simple spell! The first one we learned, in fact. _Lumos_!" her green-eyed friend looked pleadingly at her, trying to make her see his side of the story.

"Would you two shut-up? I'm tired!"

"Ronald Weasley, for the past two weeks you've been begging me to come up here with the two of you, and now all you want to do is go to sleep?"

"Yes, now shut your trap!"

Sighing resignedly, Hermione slowly eased herself out of the bed and began to look around the room.

"Hermoine," Harry's whispered voice, "what are you looking for?"

" A changing screen. I don't need to go all the way to the bathroom, I've already brushed my teeth."

Clearly uncomfortable, Harry cast his eyes down.

"Boys don't exactly have changing screens, 'Mione."

Comprehension flowed over her features, and she blushed. She may have been only twelve, but she didn't feel the need to show her best friend her body.

"S'okay, I'll just close my eyes! No problem."

"No peeking Harry James Potter!"

"It hadn't even crossed my mind." The boy evenly said.

Suspiciously she watched his eyes close behind his glasses, and she slowly turned around. She quickly stripped and threw on a long nightshirt.

Then she heard it. A low rumble that ripped around the four-poster bed. Uh-oh, she couldn't sleep if someone snored. Talking or movement she could handle, but not the constant filtering of an insistent snore.

She crawled into the maroon bed and explained her situation to Harry. He immediately took pity on his only friend who was a female.

"No problem, we'll just kick him out." And with that Harry decided to wake up Ron by using a spell he'd learnt that very day!

A gush of water shot into the red-head's ear and the boy woke spluttering and just a bit outraged.

"What was that for?" he practically yelled, even though he was less than a foot away from the other two people on the bed.

"Have some respect, Weasley!" A disgruntled Seamus called over.

"Your snoring, Ron. I can't sleep with it! Would you mind going to your own bed?"

The youngest male Weasley took some time to think it over, and ultimately saw no harm in it, he always liked to move around at night, anyway.

Ron padded across the room, and flung his curtains closed and went straight to sleep, his snoring becoming non-existent through the thick fabric surrounding him.

Getting under the blankets covering the bed at mid-December, Hermione made herself cozy. Snuggling into the comfortable mattress that The-Boy-Who-Lived had somehow gotten lucky enough to acquire.

Her mattress was rock hard.

"Hermione," the whispered voice came from her right and she turned her head to see that Harry had taken his glasses off.

"Yea, Harrry?"

"Sleep tight." And with that he blew out the lantern that lit the curtained area of his bed.

The next morning Hermione found herself cuddled into her best friend's chest, and instead of moving away instantly she just cuddled closer.

There you go! I know it was short, but it's just the beginning. I'm kind of in the middle of two other stories, but this story just wouldn't shut up in my mind!

Harry/Hermione- not quite sure how long it will be…

I need a beta and reviews!


	2. Hands

Ch. 2 Hands

She'd only been sleeping in his bed for three months when it happened. Hermione was petrified, her world turned into a black abyss. For so long he'd depended on her that he hadn't even realized he was doing it. There was an imaginary line down the middle of his bed, and neither had dared to cross it. Now, though if she were in his arms, he would never let her go.

But the future was a huge 'if' as far as Hermione went, right now he was concerned with the present and that was to find out what was petrifying his friends and stop it immediately. He knew Hermione would've figured it out, if only she'd been given the time. Now all he had was Ron to depend on, and that wasn't promising at all.

But Harry had no idea where to start! The library? He had nowhere to start among the thousands of tomes that lined the ancient walls. Dumbledore? If he hadn't figured it out before there was little chance the elderly wizard would now. So Harry went and kept a vigil by her bed at night, until one night she gave him the answer.

It was odd, staring at her so intensely for so long. Something about her made him not want to bring a book to keep himself occupied during his long hours in the Hospital Wing after nightfall. All he wanted to do was gaze at her; make sure she was still there.

When he and Ron unfurled that scrap of parchment to reveal her net, yet loopy handwriting, all he'd wanted was for her to wake up so he could tell how much he valued her.

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The relief that he felt when he saw her walk in at the final feast, made him think he'd faint. She was alive, and that was more than he'd dared to hope. And so that night, she climbed up the boy's spiral staircase and creeped into his bed, he crossed the imaginary line and simply held her hand across it.

A/N: Not much can happen when their twelve, but thirteen…yea chapters will get longer! Tell me what you think!


	3. A Witch's Secret and Magical Pharmacy

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize! Ms. Rowling is quite the lucky rich lady!

Ch. 3 A Witch's Secret

She couldn't believe she was expected to do this. Of all the idiot things in the world, womankind had thought of this.

She placed the blade against her skin, apprehension marring the features of her face, and slowly drug it up. She hissed at the feeling. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either.

Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry began it's fall term the next day, and Hermione's mum felt that the time had come for Hermione to learn how to shave.

The steam in the bathroom swirled around her and she wanted to finish quickly; she still had plenty of packing left to do.

Getting lost in her own thoughts, she felt regret that she hadn't been to the Burrow that summer, but instead would be meeting up with the Weasley's that night at The Leaky Cauldron. A whimper of pain escaped her lips and she glanced at her leg. A trickle of blood was escaping Hermione's first ever nick, oozing from her knee.

She let out a frustrated growl and concentrated on not hurting herself again. She finished after forty-five minutes of agony, and winced when she rinsed her legs of the shave gel.

She rushed around the house, putting the finishing touches on her trunk and getting dressed to do her school shopping that afternoon. Her parents were driving her to Muggle London and joining her at Diagon Alley.

Stepping into the dingy courtyard of The Leaky Cauldron, her parents looked on in awe as she tapped the special bricks that would allow them entry into the magical world. All summer, Hermione had missed her magical feeling. Like she'd left all of the wonder in the world behind her, and in her school. Now, though, she felt magic soaring through her person, filling her from head to toe in the wonderful stuff. A smile plastered itself onto her face, and she practically skipped to Flourish & Blotts, her parents trailing behind her.

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Sweat was streaming down his face, reminiscent of tears, but in all honesty he had brought himself to his own personal brink. As a teenage boy, Harry Potter had become fascinated with sports. But unlike the usual Muggle kind of boys, Harry was obsessed with a sport called Quidditch. Currently, Harry found himself hard at work training.

His trainers gave a loud 'splooch' sound every time they hit the tiny puddles in London's freshly rain-washed streets. It was early morning still, and against Mr. Fudge's orders, Harry had gone on a morning run. With school starting the next day and Quidditch try-outs soon after, he was taking the preemptive measure to prepare.

You may be on a broom, but you still had to be in tip-top shape.

He took a large gulp of air, pushing himself further, and under the taste of rain and cleanliness, he could smell the start of London's fog penetrate the air. Around him the world was beginning to wake with the sun. A shopkeeper had just unlocked his front door and turned the sign to 'open,' cars were just beginning to fill the streets, and a pastry shop down the street was putting the finishing touches on their morning offerings.

He broke into a sprint, towards the wonderful smelling shop, his mouth watering at the though of a nice crumpet or croissant with a cup of coffee.

He was going full-speed and right as he was turning into the shop, the door opened and a tall man with black messy hair, tattered wizard's robes, and rotting teeth stepped out the door and Harry ran right into him.

"You alright there, son?" the man, despite his appearance, had a charismatic tone to his voice.

Harry, quick to be embarrassed, mumbled a quick 'sorry,' and rushed into the quaint shop. He quickly ordered his food and took it back to his room, not liking the man out in Muggle London with those robes on. It seemed fishy.

In his two weeks stay at The Leaky Cauldron, Harry had made his rooms very homely. In other words, he had piles of laundry scattered around the room, half his king size bed was covered in school texts and half-finished homework, and his dresser contained a very much contained Monster Book of Monsters.

The bathroom didn't look much better, but he ignored the mess and took a quick shower. At his newly aged thirteen, Harry felt manly. He didn't quite understand why he suddenly felt the need to look at every girl that walked by in great detail or the concept of shaving. His facial hair was getting shamefully dark and he knew he would have to purchase a razor and shave gel before the train left in the morning.

He stepped into his room and looked at his own bed. He'd come to the habit of sticking to the left side of the bed, and couldn't bring himself to take up the whole thing, after all, that was Hermione's place.

And she would kill him if he didn't finish his summer studies before he saw her on the train. Getting down to work, he began working on his Potion's essay over the effect adding clover to a potion. Those leprechauns were pretty smart as far as he was concerned.

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The little bell over the door to A Witch's Secret gave a soft 'ding' when Hermione stepped inside, she had successfully evaded her mother and father back at Quills & More. She had a good twenty minutes before she would have to be back.

Hermione was mortified to say the least. She was about to turn fourteen and she had recently grown in certain places. When it got cold in the drafty halls at Hogwarts, she didn't want to be humiliated.

Which is what brought her to this particular store. Hermione had spoken to her mum about her problem and her mum had shrugged her off. Hermione needed a bra.

Heading to the back of the store, looking for help, a blush tinged her cheeks as she chanced a glance at the racy bustier and garters the store had to offer.

She finally came across a nametag labeled woman, she vaguely wondered if real people were named 'Heaven,' or if the store just sent them pre-labeled nametags.

"Can I help you, sweetheart?" The woman had a choppy bob and her clothes looked a size to small.

"I-I was looking for a- um bra." Hermione felt her face flush, and hoped the woman wouldn't notice.

"This your first one, you look kinda young?" Well, Heaven had noticed.

Hermione's feeble yes, made the saleswoman give a sigh.

"You'll need to be fitted then. Step on into a dressing room, and we'll let you try on some things."

"I don't have much time, my mum doesn't know or approve of this sort of place." She was sure her entire face was a hideous shade of fuchsia by now.

"Off to Hogwarts tomorrow, then?" The woman started to herd Hermione into a fitting room as she gave the affirmative to her question.

"Well, you'll be needing to be getting the whole set of things, won't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

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"Would you like three, four, or five blades, sir?" Harry felt he just might punch this 'Mitch' bloke if he didn't just give him a razor already.

He had come into The Magical Drugstore & Pharmacy as a quick pit-stop on his way to dinner with his friends, and he was already running ten minutes late.

"Listen, just give me whatever will work best and I'll be on my way." Harry was reaching the end of his rope.

"Why don't you just learn the spell, then, Mr. Impatient?"

No one had told him there was a spell! He reasoned with himself, though, and came to the realization that until he was seventeen he would only be able to use the spell in Hogwarts.

Plus, he really liked the mirror he'd chosen that was charmed to never fog up in the shower.

"No, I'll take the five blade and your most expensive cream."

"Good choice!" This bloke really had some issues.

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Thanks for all of you who've been patient with me! My excuse is that this year has been pretty hard, but on a good note, I'm fifteenth in my class! Yay!

The third book is my favorite, so I'm going to take my sweet time with it!

It there a British way to saw shower? I know they loo instead of bathroom, but is there any other messed up British in this? Let me know!

Hope you enjoyed it and will leave me a little note of encouragement. Maybe it'll give me the extra push to make me update sooner:D


	4. Meeting Up

Hermione quickly left the racy shop after having the saleswoman cleverly charm her bags to look as though they were from Olliva

Chapter 4: Meeting Up

Hermione quickly left the racy shop after having the saleswoman cleverly charm her bags to look as though they were from Ollivander's. Rushing down the street to get back to her parents, Hermione quickly realized that something wasn't quite right about the Alley. Usually bustling with activity and witches and wizards of all ages flocking to restock before lousy weather returned, Diagon Alley wasn't as full as she had expected. Running into someone seemed very unlikely, until she literally ran into something quite solid.

Hermione looked around frantically as she fell on her bum and watched her camouflaged bags scatter- along with their contents. She was sure the look on her face was quite comical, horrified would have put it calmly.

"Um…Sorry, miss! I really shouldn't have stood in front of that shop for so long." Hermione looked up into light emerald eyes, which prompted her to smack Harry on the arm.

"Prat. Help me up, please." He grabbed her arm, quickly pulling her to her feet.

Hermione couldn't help the wince of pain. She'd fallen rather harder than she'd thought before.

"Sorry, Harry, I was trying to get back to…" She had noticed Harry wasn't looking at her, nor paying an ounce of attention to what she was saying, no, Harry James Potter was looking at her brand spanking-new undergarments.

With an indignant 'humph,' she immediately started gathering up her skivvies.

"You know, I didn't think your mum would let you wear these kinds of things, she is a dentist after all." She gathered up the remaining items from the brick pavers that made up the alley, and started making her way towards the inn.

"I assume you'll be joining the Weasley's and my family for dinner at The Leaky Cauldron?" She, personally, hadn't been in contact with Harry, but assumed Ron had made plans with their unruly haired friend.

"Ron hadn't really mentioned it, but I guess I could make room for all of you in my busy schedule." His mouth pulled up in a mocking grin, and she couldn't help but return it.

"I'm ready to get back to Hogwarts. It really should be a busy year, and who knows who'll be taking Lockharts place." As soon as she'd said it, she wanted to take it back.

"The female population is probably hoping he'll be as _charming_, _witty_, and _handsome_ as him, don't you think? Though this time I do hope whomever will be stepping in the ever-opening position is actually qualified." It was the longest bit of speaking Harry had done in a while, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. Maybe his summer had been better than was per the norm.

Then she remembered, what was Harry doing in Diagon Alley without an escort? He hadn't been staying at the Burrow, nor was there a Professor or Dursley to be seen.

"Harry, I don't mean to sound rude, but what on earth are you doing here?"

"I blew up my aunt and ran away."

The two of them had been slowly picking their way through Diagon Alley, trying to make it to dinner just right on time, but with Harry's extremely blunt statement, she stopped. It took Harry a few steps before he realized she was no longer by his side, he turned his head back and tilted his head. In some part of her brain, Hermione realized that the position didn't look very comfortable.

"You did what?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly on purpose, Hermione! I just sort of lost control. She insulted my parents, for Merlin's sake!"

Hemione knew that when going through puberty, bouts of uncontrollable and raw magic were not uncommon, but that was usually in cases where the person didn't know they had magic. Harry knew very well that magic was passed through a wand to keep it controlled.

"Harry, that was very dangerous! You can't let yourself get that upset. You should be happy that you weren't expe…"

"Hermione!" She could no longer speak for Ron had knocked every ounce of breath from her, with a final squeeze he moved on to give Harry a very hearty pat on the back.

"Good to see you, mate. How was your holiday? All us Weasley's went to Egypt! Even got an article about us in the _Prophet_, though that may have been because we won the money from them, not because it was really that interesting…what's up with the two of you?" The redhead noticed his two friends acting a bit strange. Hermione was wheezing and holding her middle; Harry, on the other hand, was trying to massage his back and should, failing miserably.

"You've gotten rather…lofty over the summer, haven't you Ron?" She had tried to put it nicely, but the boy now towered over both her and Harry and he seemed to have gotten quite strong, too.

"Can't help the growing part, mum says we all spurt up like weeds in her garden, but Bill said it was time for the twins and I to bulk up."

Hermione didn't say that he wasn't exactly going to be cast as The Hulk, but she couldn't help but admit that he did look a good bit stronger than when she had last seen him the past June.

"Well, you're definitely bigger. You're going to have to help me with that bulking up stuff, Quidditch is pretty taxing."

"Lesson number one, we must eat." The two boys' laughter caused Hermione to roll her eyes. Really, all they thought about was food and flying around on brooms. At the moment, though, her parents arrived on the scene and seeing the puzzled looks on their faces, she quickly ushered the boys inside the pub. No need for embarrassing questions when she could easily never have to answer them.

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"Tomorrow, before we head to the station I need to go by Aesop's to get something for poor Scabbers. He seems to be falling ill. I think it may have been the long-distance portkeying, or the twins may have done something to him. They're always trying to pull stuff over on me, crazy buggers."

"That should be fine, my parents gave me advanced birthday money to purchase a familiar with. I'm pretty sure I want a cat, maybe an owl. I can't decide."

"Hedwig always enjoys a new flavor of owl treats, so we'll just wake up early then, I suppose."

"That means the two of you are going to have to get all of your packing done tonight. We'll need to leave at nine so we can get back in time to meet up for breakfast with the other before we leave for King's Cross." She hated to put their spirits of one last lay in, but it was needed. She was almost positive she'd be getting a cat.

"Hermione, dear, I think your father and I will be getting home." Hermione noticed the look she was giving her, sighing she got up from the table and followed her mum to the front of the pub. Her father was using the loo, and it seemed her mother was taking the time to find where her only daughter had snuck off to.

Hermione was horrified to see that her mother had somehow convinced a magical person to disillusion her Witch's Secret bag. The extremely embarrassing hot pink of the bag seemed to bring too much attention to their conversation in the dark, dank pub.

She snatched the bag from her mother and tried to make it look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Honey, I know you want to be a big girl and do grown up girl things, but you're young. A fourteen year old girl should not be worrying about things like this. I let you shave because of your school uniform. I don't want to have to worry about you while you're off to Hogwarts, but I won't be there to tell you that you're doing something you shouldn't or making sure you brush your teeth at night."

Hermione couldn't help it. She threw herself into her mum's arms.

"I can't help that I'm growing up, don't worry, I'm trying to ignore it, but it won't let me. I love you, and I can't wait to see you at Christmas hols."

"Well, I suppose I'll go track down your father. Have a wonderful term, Hermione, and if you need anything, I'm just a call away."

At Hermione's questioning glance, her mother coughed in her awkward way. "I mean, I'm just an owl away."

"I love you too, mum. I'll keep in touch." With that she scurried up the stairs to her room.

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Harry closed the door and sank down to the floor. He'd never really paid an ounce of attention to his surroundings during his stay, but now, the pictures alive with the manic face of Sirius Black haunted him.

The aforementioned manic, was after him. Why did it seem that someone was always out to get him, or ruin what looked to be a very good term.

He looked up to the sight of Hedwig pecking to get into his room. That was odd, he'd requested that housekeeping only clean his room when he left. He never closed his window, Hedwig deserved to stretch her wings after being cooped up in her cage all summer.

"How'd you get out there, girl?" He opened the window and let her, closing it so he made sure she made it with him to the train.

He looked at his room in dismay. He probably wouldn't be getting much sleep with all the packing that had to be done.

A knock on his door jerked his attention back to his entranceway. "Harry, let me in."

"Just a second." He quickly threw a pair of dirty drawers under his bed and walked to the door, letting Hermione in.

"What in the world of magic happened to your room?"

"I'll get it all packed, if I get some help, that is."

"I can't believe you're wrangling me into cleaning your room when we're not even at school, yet." He gave her his most charming smile and began to open his trunk. His face turned into a grimace when he saw the contents at the bottom of his almost empty trunk.

"That's disgusting, Harry!"

"Well, what'd you expect? Charles Dickens?" It wasn't like this months PlayWizard was even his! Okay, he didn't think he could get away with blaming it on Ron, he'd been in Egypt after all.

"Let's get all your stuff in your trunk, then I'll lecture you on how unethical that magazine is."

"I wasn't the one buying racy undergarments!"

"I should hope not, Mister Potter!"

With a loud 'humph' he turned his gaze to his wardrobe and couldn't help the distaste that showed on his features when he saw all of Dudley's ugly and oversized things.

He glanced at Hermione who was currently putting all of his textbooks neatly into the bottom of his trunk.

Several hours, the pair fell onto his bed, exhausted, but it didn't stop the smile covering half his face when she instantly fell asleep on her side of his bed.

Who cared if the man whom betrayed his parents was out to get him when he had his best friend laying next to him?


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